


using your seven foot tall girlfriend as a funicular (yeah it's a vore fic)

by CaliforniaJones



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Inflation, Non-fatal vore, Protective vore, Same-Size Vore, Size Difference, Soft Vore, Stuffing, Vore, at first but then he's like (smiling shrug emoji), discovering absolutely buckwild kinks in a contrived way, inappropriate and inaccurate use of Alter Self, no betas we die like men, pregnancy mention, unwilling prey, yeah I'd say that this probably belongs in that tag at this point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliforniaJones/pseuds/CaliforniaJones
Summary: "Do you trust me?" Aiza asked.Doc gawked at her new height then nodded his head, closing the distance between them. "Of course I do."They kissed; he was barely lukewarm on her tongue, with skin like ice. If they stayed any longer, he'd freeze. There wasn't a moment to waste."Okay, good. Then trust me now."Her kiss deepened. Then widened. And then her lips were curling around the rest of him as she started sliding his head into her mouth.--wherein a snowstorm and a bunch of cultists on a manhunt for her boyfriend convince Aiza the half-giant to store her boyfriend in her belly for safekeeping. (because that's logical, amirite). No need to know anything about D&D to read this, but spells from the game come up like. Twice.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	1. A Rash Decision, At Best

**Author's Note:**

> my d&d party and i kept joking about the idea of these two being totally into vore. joked and joked until i caved and actually wrote something vore-centric. I blame them for this.

A frigid cave at the shoulder of the Silverhead Mountain's synclines was where Aiza and her beau had chosen to sequester themselves during the storm. They'd established it as a rendezvous point, a safe haven in the event of an avalanche, an earthquake, anything that'd prevent their further ascent to the shrine at Silverhead's summit. It was where Doc had planned to complete a ritual of blood and abjuration, something that'd loose the enemies from his tail now that the Slithering God's blessing had faded.

Doc had enemies in the form of the Slithering God's cultists. Men who believed the god's blessings were finite. Men who didn't appreciate other people's meddlings in a secret that ought to have been theirs and theirs alone. Somehow, they'd found ...doc here. How exactly that had happened was lost on them, but it wasn't important. What did matter was that this made Doc a mouse in a cage, waiting the slithering ones to encircle him and strike. But they didn't know about Aiza.

Aiza, the girl with giant's blood in her veins and a foolish love in her heart for a boy who'd dug too deep into the secrets of gods that should've stayed forgotten.

Even so, they were stuck in a cave with a dwindling fire, and at the mercy of the snowstorm which only now was starting to dwindle only slightly. Doc was practically on top of the embers, despite his initial insistence that they share fire privileges. Aiza didn't need it. Her mother had been a giant of stone and ice, after all.

There was a mountain village at the base of the Silverheads, a mere handful of miles downhill. Under normal circumstances, the trek should have only taken half a day's hike at most. But they hadn't counted on cultists, lurking behind pineneedles, sound dampened by the soft plush of snow. (They didn't recognize her; it gave her the chance to feign innocence, get close, and gut them). They hadn't counted on the detour it forced. The snowstorm that had started as a swirling burst of flecks like starlight, quickly turning furious.

Aiza could perform no great magic. Minor feats, sure - an affinity for sparks was what had granted them the meagre campfire to begin with. She carried one magic item on her person, and those were simply custom bracers that could alter her, slightly. She could grow or shrink a foot, or grow gills, or toughen her skin for a nonspecific amount of time. But minor magics like these meant little when most of the wood was soaked through and you were forced into a cruel calculus where variables included the weather, assassins, the visibility of the smoke relative to the heat it provided. So for the time being, they had to wait for the storm to let up, then navigate a trail that may or may not have been infested with assassins. The problem was, said "time being" turned from hours to a night, then the rest of the next day. 

The solution came to her during the second night, while cooking a rabbit they'd caught in a snowbank nearby. (Aiza noted footprints left a little too close for comfort). 

"Y'know, giants used to prey on humans," Doc said.

She snorted. "That sounds like a lie."

Doc sat up a bit. Aiza could have been imagining it, but his coat looked dangerously loose on him. "No, really. They used to just..." He mimed a biting and tearing motion. "That was when they weren't swallowing them like grapes, to store for later. I find it odd your parents never told you."

Aiza grimaced at that. "I don't think 'Good night, sweetie, by the way, I totally could've eaten your dad at any time, but he was good at sex, so I chose not to,' is an appropriate story for kids." She pulled back a loose lock of her hair, white and wavy, as was her mother's. "They usually just called each other pet names."

"What romantics."

He looked lovely and tired in a way that made her ache. She pulled him in close. He was fairly average sized, pudgy and soft in spots she grasped for rather desperately when they made love. Shorter than her by about a foot, but damn near everyone was.

"Romantic like you?"

His face went a bit crimson at that, to which she laughed.

"I'm trying to figure out if that was just a roundabout way of asking for oral," she hummed.

A smile played at his lips as he hooked his thumb into her waistband. "You're on the right track."

The last of their kindling went out that morning. That bolstered her resolve. Hunters and assassins be damned, they couldn't stay up there any longer. There was still a chill in the air. A chill that could kill Doc, but do little to her.

She'd figured out how to get him down the mountain.

Doc was wrapping himself in the coat and clipping a lonely dagger of obsidian to his belt. It was supposed to be used at the shrine, but a set of dark hoods had put a stop to that. "Hold on, Moonlight." She slipped off his coat and the heavier bundles off of him. He seemed confused, but relented.

Aiza activated her bracers with a flick of her wrists and the magic coursed through her, wild and bubbling. And she willed herself taller, willed herself more elastic, because she'd need both those things for the next step in her plan to work. She was bigger than him before, but now she towered a full two feet above him.

"Do you trust me?" she asked. He gawked at her new height then nodded his head, closing the distance between them. "Of course I do," he said.

They kissed; he was barely lukewarm on her tongue, with skin like ice. If they stayed any longer, he'd freeze. There wasn't a moment to waste.

"Okay, good. Then trust me now."

Her kiss deepened. Then _widened_. And then her lips were curling around the rest of him as she started sliding his head into her mouth.

And yes, Doc did trust her, but she'd also done a piss-poor job of explaining her intentions, and the primal fear of being eaten whole and alive was very present and real, so he started to wriggle and writhe in her grip said something high-pitched that she couldn't make out over the rush of her own blood in her ears. 

"Settle down, please please _please_ ," she meant to say, but it came out a jumbled slick of non-words that barely escaped the tight space between her jaws and his bulk, and when she reached his shoulders she gave up on talking entirely, because _good God_ those shoulders were gonna be a problem going down. And they were - her jaws ached and the corners of her mouth felt liable to shred, even with the elasticity of the spell coursing through her. Despite knowing this idea would be a hard-sell at best, the pulse of the increasing, panicked mania of his heartbeat made her grip loosen and tears prick at the corners of her eyes, because the idea of hurting him in any way was anathema to her. But it was either this, or let Doc stay here and freeze, or let him make the trek down and freeze, or trek down and get caught by cultists who would be undoubtedly furious about their gutted comrades, and though none of those was a pleasant option, one was decidedly better than the others.

There was a pop and a glint of panic rushed through her, but Aiza realized that was only her jaw making space to accommodate the... _meal_ , and seconds later she was past his shoulders. It was easier from there on out - he'd likely made the same realization she had, because he stopped struggling, resigning himself to her plan, but she still felt him trembling as her throat drew him deeper. It made her nauseous enough to nearly spit him out then, but she was already past the worst of it. Reneging on the decision wasn't exactly feasible at this point.

Though his potbelly was certainly the widest part of him, it had the most give, and she made quick work of it with a few slobbery swallows. (She'd certainly manhandled him there before, and this was almost enjoyable in the same way, he was sweet, so sweet, and Oh God, _What_ ). All the while, her gullet stretched to accommodate his mass, and she was certain she looked like some sort of monstrous, feral yuan-ti the bards would weave nightmarish cantos about, but she didn't want to unpack all that right now. 

Doc tensed a bit, and there was a whimper. Guilt wracked through her, but she pushed ahead. And then she got to his hips, straight and square, and she inched past those and got to his groin, and g _ood God_ he was hard. It gave her pause, even while he was crammed more than halfway inside her. She tried attributing his... girth to an increased blood flow, to panic, until she couldn't. She didn't exactly hear it, but she _felt_ their collective heat pool in her belly, and there, vibrating somewhere near her ribcage, a conflicted little whine come out of him, and she _felt_ him cum in choked, hot little spurts. They froze entirely, shock and mortification having worked its magic on them. 

Aiza was stuck in that dumbfounded, red-faced state until she heard his voice. It was muffled (yes, being halfway down your lover's gullet will do that) but she understood it was something like "H-hurry up," in a tone like a schoolboy caught in a lie. 

So she did. She swallowed him up, and he was noticeably more pliant, the tension in his body having eased, and the last of the bulges his legs and feet created disappeared down her throat as he curled and settled into her stomach. Aiza let out a huge, relieved sigh, her first full breath after what has felt like hours of struggle, and examined her handiwork. She started patting the _massive_ distended orb that was now her belly, feeling fuller than she ever had in her whole life, fit to burst if she so much as looked at it wrong. But it felt... correct. Like there was some part of her really built for this, a part that regret not having done this sooner. She shunted the thought away with some shame.

And her belly was calm and still at first, big and round and bulging where Doc's limbs were bent at funny angles while they both caught their breaths. Burbling and grumbling with the sudden, two hundred pound offset. But then it exploded into a shifting mass of movement while he poked and prodded and rearranged himself in her, kicking madly, like a set of severely overdue multiples. She gasped and groaned, clutching the mass with a grit of her teeth.

"You ate me?! Your brilliant plan was to eat me??" He punctuated his discontent with a swift little jolt to her ribs and she staggered, stumbled, and landed on her ass with a hefty moan. She tried to wrap her arms around the entirety of her belly in some attempt to comfort him, but she could barely overlap her hands across her navel, his struggles notwithstanding, so she settled for rubbing and massaging the big bulges of him while she panted and whined and burped through the indigestion. Her thighs were splayed wide around her gut, cradling it while she tried to situate herself around her new heft.

"I'm sorry," she burped, the desperation reaching her voice. "I didn't know what else to do.”

"Anything else. Literally anything else." 

She groaned. They'd gone over it more times than they could count, but even the original plan they'd settled on was worse than this. "I'd argue you're safer in there than out here," she said, and she kissed the topmost bulge, which she assumed was the top of his head. It seemed to calm him a bit, because he thankfully stopped the violent squirming it felt like he'd been doing just to spite her. She was still stretched too thin for comfort, but it gave her enough reprieve to start moving.

She propped herself properly upright and was finally able to get a full scope of just how _big_ she was, her gut torpedoing beyond her knees. A bit unsettling. Aiza shimmied herself up, hunched over with her belly drooping low like a hammock with Doc's weight, and when she got to her feet, she realized she definitely couldn't see them anymore. Despite herself, she laughed. She laughed and then burped, then laughed again until Doc's hand pressed in a rather ghastly way against the skin on the side of her tummy, and she massaged that back in with a little wince. She'd always wanted his children, and she'd always wanted a lot of them. With any luck, this was a preview of that life: completely stuffed to the gills with nothing but him. But first, they'd need to get down the mountain. 

And then the hiccups started. It was just one at first, but violent enough to make her passenger jump, almost sending her ass-up again. 

"I don't know how you expect to get down the mountain in this state," she heard Doc say while she scrambled back into place. He was curled up a little ball now, judging by the shape of his outline on her. It was a little nauseating to look at, so she sloppily threw her robes over herself. They didn't drape over her elegantly anymore, but they tented rather awkwardly and the fabric ended a bit early over her distention. She huffed. Whatever.

When she was situated, Aiza looked out the mouth of the cave and deliberated, idly rubbing the heavy swell of her underbelly. Despite himself, Doc nestled into that caress.

There was a path. She could make her way down that, and hopefully encounter some stranger along the way that'd give her reprieve. She just needed to head down, in spite of the biting chill.

Finally, she answered Doc's question. "I'll belly slide. - _hic_ \- Like a penguin." God, she sounded like a drunk. And was reasoning like one, too.

"Have fun with that." 

Her fingers drummed against the tight flesh of her stomach. "Hmm, I suspect you had some fun on the way down my throat." 

He didn't grace that with a response. 


	2. Belly of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aiza and Doc are led to safety. Maybe.

Aiza didn't end up belly sliding, but she certainly waddled as daintily as a penguin as she made her way down the Silverheads. Once she adjusted to her altered center of gravity, the very act of walking became a tottering lilt. Her hips settled into a heavy sway, her stride short and pigeon-toed. Anything else only mirrored the distinct sensation of anticipating a step that isn't there, and the subsequent lurch that sent her heart into her throat. The sounds of crunching snow and whipping wind, the metronomic sway of her belly ahead of her, and Doc's low warmth like glowing embers burning inside her made her so very sleepy, but there was still daylight and the blizzard's reprieve meant she'd be able to get further than she was originally hoping, so long as she didn't make the rookie mistake of taking a nap for no goddamn reason. So she rubbed the drowsy grit out of her eyes and trudged onward, gradually picking up her pace as the path became more clear.

After some consideration, Aiza conceded that whoever they were, the person that told Doc about giants' storage capacity was _not_ kidding. It was surprising how quickly her body had grown accustomed to the new volume; all of maybe an hour had to pass before the feeling that he was going to tear passed. Moreover, her abdomen's shape rounded out and tightened up enough to allow her to catch sight of her navel and poke at the nub of it, as though she were merely pregnant instead of… well, whatever this could be called. Arguably, some of that was attributable to Doc not thrashing around like a fish inside her.

Oddly, she almost missed that. More specifically, she missed Doc's obvious presence. Without it, her only companions were a biting chill beginning to threaten her toes, frazzled pines, and the swirling whiteness around her. Without meaning to, Aiza found herself prodding for Doc's movements by tapping the firmest parts of her stomach, only stopping upon realizing he started shying away.

"Sorry," she said.

Aiza felt him huff.

Doc was still angry. Or rather, it seemed that way, because he wasn't chattering her ear off about any recent findings within the Capital's record halls, or what they'd be doing once they got home, or the annoying guard Doc suspected was trying to get him fired, or any of the other topics he tended to oscillate between. Aiza always suspected it was out of a desire to not be alone with his own thoughts, where the Slithering God would occasionally make its presence known if given a free minute. She'd found him in the god's thrall once, huddled in a corner of her guild's keep, the comprehension gone from his expression and curled into a ball. He recovered within that same moment, but it wasn't a reassurance; Aiza spent that night stroking his hair and bawling anyway. That Doc would risk _that_ to give her a cold shoulder was quite the insult in and of itself, but she figured her response would have been much worse had the situation been reversed. (Not that this was possible, considering their difference in stature. But then again, if someone had told her a week ago she was capable of swallowing a fully-grown man whole, she'd have laughed them out the door. Logic was truly A Fuck).

Snowflakes danced. She brushed an aggregate of them off the top of her belly, then gave it a generous pat. "Soooo," she started. Any eavesdropping woodland creatures must have thought her insane to be conversing with her breakfast in this way. "You have every right to be upset. But can you at least let me know you're all right in there?"

Much to her relief, pressed outward to meet the hand she rested on her stomach. "It's… comfortable," he admit, as if the very words hurt. "But the looming threat of turning into fat on your hips puts me more than a bit on edge."

Okay, the natural digestive process was certainly a concern, but Aiza was convinced it wasn't an immediate one. She couldn't quite describe it, but there was something innate, like a switch she could turn on or off at will, keeping her body from continuing that process. Like a less crass version of holding in the urge to urinate (or, well, more crass, considering it came with burning acid death). But like that urge, she imagined that given enough time, enough hunger, her body would do as it pleased without regard to her desires. They were making good progress, though, and she wasn't particularly fatigued. If worse came to worst, she could figure out how to spit him out. Surely that wouldn't be too difficult?

It was while she was considering this that she realized Doc had been babbling the entire time, the sweet drawl she thought he'd shivered away having returned to his tone. At least he was warm now. "-and I mean, they're very nice hips, they're firm and smooth they'd be just as nice if they grew, I just don't have the urge to become a part of-"

He stopped, suddenly flustered. "Wait, what am I doing? I'm still _furious_. You've just tricked me into thinking otherwise," he said in a thoroughly unconvincing manner. She said nothing, but she got a kick out of it, and he must have sensed the enamored flutter of her heartbeat, because he burrowed a bit deeper into place and groaned.

Despite his insistence that he was so very angry, he made an odd comment about their pace, or asked about the outside conditions ( _"Yes, Moonlight, the snow is still snowy,_ ") here or there, but even those remarks ebbed as the gentle rocking motion started to lull her occupant to sleep. Actual words gave way to soft mumbling, the sort that spilt out of him when snuggly and spent after they'd been intimate. Eventually, she felt the vibration of Doc's snoring, for which she was thankful. 

If he made any noise after that, it was lost in the wind. That wind kicked back up again, along with the rest of the storm. Aiza did her best to stick to the footpath, going so far as to designate a fallen tree branch as a walking stick and use that to prevent more precarious movements. But the scenery around her started to white out and fade away, forcing her to stop completely until there was a break in the gusts that allowed her to open her eyes to anything more than a sliver. Her extremities were having a miserable time, but seemed to hold. These things only confirmed her suspicion that yes, fucking eating Doc was the best of many terrible options, which went to show how thoroughly shitty circumstances had become.

Aiza was walking again when another bout of hiccups started. It confused her at first; she caught on to the fact that they usually started up when Doc kneed her in the diaphragm, but in this case, that hadn't happened. It came to her a second too late - it was the spell from her bracers fading, and with every jostle, she was getting shorter and smaller, and the great big mass of her stomach stretched tighter and tighter while a twinge of pain surged through her. The change wasn't extreme, but the shift must have passed _some_ threshold, because what she thought was solid ground beneath her collapsed and she found herself caught within a snowbank. She tried to pull herself free, but it only made her sink a bit deeper (crap, how deep was the snow here?) The wind whipped her hair, and when she pulled it out of her eyes it left wet streaks that immediately froze asking her cheeks.

Between that jolt and the light contraction as Aiza shrunk, Doc roused. "What happened?"

She nearly had to scream to hear her own explanation above the din of the wind, but he heard her just fine. "Oh hell, Ninth Friggin' Circle, I- " He paused. "Let me out, I could try pulling you out."

Aiza sucked in a breath. She hadn't been counting on the charges of her bracers to fade before they made it to a more convenient location. It forced her to make a quick confession. "I don't - I don't think I _can_ until next dawn. It was hard enough getting you in there with the transmutation."

"What? How were you planning on getting me out when - _Aiza_." A ripple of frustration ran along her topside and she gasped at the sensation. Wrapping her arms around her belly wasn't even possible anymore - she was too wide. Maybe her abdominal muscles would adjust to this, too, but for now she was cold and fat and miserable and useless in that snowbank, with only her top half and her busy guts peeking above the surface of the snow, like a strange winter blossom. 

They stayed stuck there while she fought the weather uselessly; the blizzard proper stopped at some point, but that didn't exactly lift their spirits. Aiza was examining the blue beginning to paint her fingertips when a long, deep howl echoed somewhere outside her field of vision. She choked on her own breath while her utter helplessness sunk in and the sound of footfalls closed in. Something wet, hot, and furry hit the back of her neck and she screamed, squeezing her eyes shut, hoping it'd be quick. A few seconds passed. She wasn't dead, and Doc's panicked " _What happened_?" dared Aiza to open her eyes.

Dogs? No, wolves - three hulking, huge dire wolves were digging around her, deftly stepping to avoid the snowbank's fragile spots, whining all the while. After some practiced motions, two of them clamped their jaws around either of her shoulders, and she was certain they'd rip her in two until they started tugging her out of the snow. Soon enough, she was laid up against a tree trunk and breathing heavily enough to draw billowing clouds of steam out of her mouth while one of the beasts howled.

"S-sunlight. Are those _wolves_?"

They certainly were. The other two started encircling her in a way that was almost predatory, until she realized they were more… herding her. Ha. As if she could even roll over, much less waddle away. While the howling one bounded off, one of the circling pair, tawnier than its brother, started sniffing her. Aiza wondered if it sensed Doc, and her suspicion was confirmed when it started prodding him, prompting her put her arms around her much-too-large middle protectively. It hardly worked - she couldn't even reach her belly-button anymore for how absurdly swollen she was, but the beast backed off rather politely. 

What well-trained boys, she mused. Seconds later, their trainers appeared. Two of them, a bearded man with a bow, and a skinny little thing with coily locs, both well-bundled and well-suited to this sort of endeavor from the look of it. The smaller man whistled for the wolf who'd sent for the pair, presumably the pack leader judging by his size, and tossed a scrap of dried meat at him, issuing praise in some sort of primordial tongue she couldn't quite place. She let the relief sweep over her at the sight; she and Doc would probably be all right, and probably was good enough for her at that exact second.

The men and the wolves tried to fit her into a sidecar sleigh, but when they realized she was too awkwardly sized for that, she went into the sleigh proper while the younger man - a boy, really - strapped into the sidecar with little complaint.

"Should we take her to camp?" one said.

"Sure, sure, just don't... I doubt they'd mind so long as..."

The words faded in and out, but Aiza didn't care to probe, she just cared that Lords Above, one of them had a blanket and hot tea (which she made sure wasn't scalding before sipping; Doc didn't protest) and something as simple at that made her feel like an utter princess. Someone must have rigged the rest of the wolves to the sleigh while she wasn't looking, because they started moving to the tune of the wolves' yipping and scratching through the snow.

She watched the sky start to purple and wondered how long it had been clear. One of her hands went to her bulging flank and Doc answered with a delicate press against it. Poor guy probably had no idea what was happening, but he was being an incredible sport about it. She thought to update him as best she could.

"Thank you for the rescue there. I thought I was in for a lost foot."

The bearded man laughed boisterously at that. "It's no trouble, really! It keeps us busy, right Anders?"

The boy nodded, his eyes bulging and roaming over all of Aiza. His gaze felt hot enough to burn. To be fair, she was undoubtedly quite a lot to take in given her current shape. Nonetheless, she shifted in discomfort.

The man's voice was smoky and heavy as whiskey. "The name's Lawson. What's a girlie like you doing out here anyway? You shouldn't be outside, you look about ready to pop."

Ah, well. That was going to be hard to explain. "I'd, ah, prefer not to talk about it. It's embarrassing, really-" 

He gave her a quick look. "Let me guess: We gotta beat up daddy for you?"

Her stomach - not her actual stomach thank goodness - twisted at the thought. Okay, what to say, what to - "I was looking at seashells."

Lawson and Anders gawked at her. "What?"

And she was never more glad to be a geologist in her whole life, because even as she was explaining the theory of plate tectonics and the way the roiling of the earth's innards led to movement and earthquakes and mountains springing up from ancient oceans, the men immediately lost interest. Which hurt a little - she'd have been happy to discuss the Silverheads' ancient larafish fossils and bivalve specimens for hours on end - but it also meant they weren't going to press further, because she was simply a crazy scientist rather than a suspiciously overdue half-giant.

During this, a foreign hand went to her bump and she instinctually swat the hand away. "Hey! Hasn't anyone ever told you how rude that is?"

The younger of the pair's eyes flew open and he seemed to collapse in on himself. "Sorry, ma'am."

Hmm. He didn't seem _that_ much younger than Aiza herself, but carried himself the way a child would. 

Lawson turned to her with a small smile. "Apologies about the kid, miss, ah..." 

"Aiza Ngisis." 

Lawson didn't even try pronouncing it, he only puffed his cheeks. "Thank you. Well. Anders is pretty young. He ain't ever been too far outta his hometown until just this year. I doubt he's ever even seen someone in your... state. He can be rather naïve. Cut him some slack."

Her belly could reasonably be used as a table now, so she folded her arms and rested them atop it. She felt Doc twisting a bit to face inward rather than out, rounding her belly out. She winced a bit before responding. "What exactly are you, woodcutters?"

"Something like that." He was quiet for a long while after. Aiza started looking for the navigators' stars in the sky, but had no luck. She wondered what weird intimacies and subtleties about her innards Doc was coming to know, then shuddered at the thought.

"By the way, you ain't seen anyone else on your way down, have you?"

She shook her head. "No. Why do you ask?"

"No particular reason," Lawson replied. 

Anders was still starting at her, and when she caught him, he turned away, quick and apologetic-like. Aiza sighed. If they hadn't figured out by now that she wasn't in fact stuffed with babies, it wouldn't hurt to play nice with the kid.

"Hey, buddy. Did you want to feel..." she said, rubbing the sides of her swell, where she figured Doc's arms were, signaling her intent. Doc said nothing, but he tried to voice his displeasure by pinching a spot he'd discovered facing her spine, where his movement wasn't visible.

She bit back a yelp and Anders jumped back, startled.

Aiza reddened. "The... uh. The boy's a bit of a bully." That earned her a little kick that started up her hiccups again. She'd have words with Doc later.

Anders reached for her hesitantly, then all at once, rubbing the broad circumference of her with something like reverence. Between the way she'd widened since the transmutation spell had worn off, and Anders' eagerness, Aiza braced herself to burst like a balloon right then and there with his touch. But much to her surprise, it felt frighteningly nice having Anders' hands pour warmth and pressure over her over-wrought stomach, big and swollen and sensitive like a bruise. She fought back a moan, but couldn't prevent a burp from coming up. She clamped her mouth shut with a hand, quite embarrassed; no one noticed. 

He palmed over her navel, where she was guessing the small of Doc's back was based on the way she was reclining. Aiza felt him shiver, then remembered entirely too late that he was, ahem, sensitive there, for lack of a better term. Then she recalled his excitement while she'd swallowed him up. Hmm. Well. At least they'd have a lot of new material to work with once this debacle was over.

The toll of the day's exertion began to wash over her like a wave. She was nearly asleep when Anders spoke. "You're not fully human, right? You're having, like, baby giants?" his tone was about as slight as he was. He'd have been endearing in any other circumstance, but at that moment, the question plucked her from her reviere only long enough for her to nod dumbly, eyes fluttering.

"Mmmh." She thought she heard her stomach growl, but maybe that was Doc swimming around in her. 

"Cool." Anders pressed an ear to her stomach, as if it'd help him ascertain anything new. He frowned when it didn't. "Do you know how many you're having?" 

Lawson saved her. "That's enough, Anders, can't you see the poor girl's exhausted?"

She was quietly grateful that Lawson lifted the burden of conversation from her. She looked up so she could mouth a "thank you" but like any good ranger or hunter or whatever he was, his gaze was trained on the snowfall. Aiza kept watching for an in and was at the point where a closed eye showed her dreamland when she saw it: A pair of dots, there, at the nape of Lawson's neck. Nearly mistakable for moles. She rubbed her eyes. The longer she looked, the more she realized they resembled snakebites. Aiza suddenly remembered an old exchange she’d had with Doc.

"So their god's a snake?" she'd asked some months ago, within the Duke's stables, where Doc was working for the day.

He finished measuring the circumference of the wyrmling egg and scrawled a few numbers into a ragged notebook. He took off his pair of reading glasses and the pencil he'd used flew to the back of his ear. "No," he said, wiping stray sawdust from the paper. "Their god just slithers like one, and hisses like one, and stares unblinking at you like it wants to devour you. Like a snake. Hence the snakebites."

What had they said about the campsite? Quite little, now that she thought about it. Aiza started breathing hard, quelling the desire to jump out of the sleigh entirely. Within her, the dread grew and her blood ran colder than it had in the blizzard as she realized they were being dragged directly into the belly of the beast.


	3. people eat more food also the end's bonkers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aiza and doc are at the camp. it's weirdly comfy.
> 
> also, there's some stuffing in this one.

Aiza didn't expect the camp to be so warm.

In fact, she wasn't exactly sure what to expect at all. But she certainly wasn't expecting something akin to a village. To her, cultists and harpies and every other nasty thing she encountered in the midst of her travels popped in and out of existence at will, solely for the purpose of inconveniencing her party members at the worst possible time. 

That wasn't the case here. There were women in heated debate over whether or not leave the laundry out to dry while the snow wasn't falling. Old men with pipes or long twigs of hearthstick stuck between their teeth. There were _children_ \- a girl throwing snowballs at a tiefling boy, which slid off him like ice on a hot griddle before they were off and running. Somewhere, someone was burning incense.

She would have preferred to know the Slithering God's cultists as faceless men armed to the teeth with bows and sabers and daggers. Oh, traces of that ilk were still evident; men with snakebite tattoos. The ouroboric patterning her eyes settled on here or there, on textiles or charms or rugs the homemakers beat with heavy sticks. So as their sled made headway through the campsite, Aiza kept her eyes wide and her arms clutched around the precious thing she carried in the pit of her stomach. Oddly, it stabilized her, the gentle thrum of Doc's heartbeat palpable on the surface of her skin if she focused.

In theory, she could stand now - her belly was still comically oversized, enough for a woman with enormous, black curls to approach and gawk with something like horror and say "What did your husband _do_ to you?" which made Aiza stammer and laugh nervously until the sled moved out of sight. But by the time they arrived at the campsite, her body was able to acclimate once more, as it had when she first set out in the morning - she was mobile and round instead of lumpy and stuck as a turtle flipped on its back. Her shirt had ridden hopelessly up and over her new girth, the fabric bundling up just below her breasts as though she were outfitted in an avant garde tube top; her belly would have been completely exposed if not for the woolen robes that were starting to rub her stretched surface raw.

They came to a stop outside a grandiose tent, reminiscent of a circus, hung with round lanterns like fresh oranges, rattling tunes wafting from some mystery instrument.

Lawson undid the harnesses on the wolves and gave Aiza a smile. "Stay there, I'll talk to the camp leader. Then you can get some grub, 'n get situated for the night."

Food was the absolute last thing on her mind, but the gesture was kind enough, even coming from a snake-cultist. Still, every minute spent at the camp was a minute spent longer in territory that was expressly dangerous for Doc. If the elevation was as low as she was estimating, the final leg of the route should have taken perhaps half an hour, at best. "That's really nice of you, honestly. But I - can't you take me down the mountain? I don't want to intrude."

Anders answered as though he'd read her mind. "Cordyon Pass is blocked. Must have been the storm."

"Oh. That's too bad," she said, doing her best to conceal any emotion from her voice. God, did they know? Maybe they knew.

But if they did, they didn't seem to let it on. Lawson just pointed out the mess hall, so she could eat and he could find her later. Anders simply whistled, the dire wolves stood at attention. They proceeded to follow him to kennels located behind some distant structure, but not before one took a final, sidelong glance at Aiza.

When both Lawson and Anders were gone, she let herself release a breath that felt like acid in her chest . Experimentally, she lifted from the bottom of her belly's heavy sag, and the tickle of Doc's motion sent a current no, she most definitely did _not_ enjoy down her spine. She bit back a moan and for a reluctant second, savored the vibrant sensation of his fluttering.

"How- how are you?" she asked, half-afraid Doc wouldn't respond. To her relief, his response was a prompt one.

"Fine. Any news?"

Aiza winced a bit. "Those guys? They're- ah. Part of the Slithering God's. Um. Kind. And we're in their campsite."

Pause. "You know, I'm not even surprised at my luck anymore." Another pause. "Do me a favor? Get me my flask."

Aiza pulled a fist-sized flask from their nondescript satchel and moved as if she were about to hand it to him before thinking -

"Wait. How? I - oh." 

She took a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, then choked down the metal flask like an oversized pill. It hurt and scraped the whole way down, and when she was done, she massaged the soreness out of her sternum and throat.

The rise of shoulders pressing against the upper lining of her stomach wall indicated a shrug. (God, she was starting to recognize _very specific_ parts of her anatomy she never wanted to recognize). "That was mostly a joke, but sure," he said. He undid the cap of and downed the entirety of what Aiza understood to be a full flask of whiskey, punctuating it with a bashful little burp. 

"Rude."

Already, the edge to his tone had been eroded by the alcohol. "You don't get to say that, you've been burping _all day_ and it's felt weird _every_ time."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes, it squeezes. Everything's hot and wet clenching around me, like -"

He ended the train of thought there, but Aiza pressed the matter, not understanding. "Like what?"

Doc hesitated. Then gave a non-answer: "I will _never_ hear the end of it if I finish that sentence."

-

No one was in the mess, food was already laid out in on serving trays, formed into steaming pyramids accompanied by stacks of little ceramic dishes and a hip-high kettle bubbling at the center.

The growling in her stomach caught her off guard until she realized that wasn't _her_ stomach growling. 

"Oh sweetheart," she said, regretfully, recognizing her mistake. "I haven't fed us."

"Actually, you completely stuffed yourself with a _lovely_ meal this morning." 

Mottled, mortified splotches of pink blossomed across her chest and up her throat. Aiza opened her mouth to retort, but in a sense he was right. Truthfully, she liked eating him more than she wanted to admit. She hadn't been actively gauging the way he tasted (on account of the latent insanity in so doing), but she vaguely recalled it was _nice_. And, yes, she was more than satisfied after the fact, feeling the same way she did sprawled out across the chaise couch in the keep's parlor after the Feast of the Autumn's Bounty.

Something about it had been deeply satisfying - thrilling, even. The idea of possessing the entirety of him so wholly and completely. Keeping him sequestered away, safe and secure. Entirely within. Entirely hers.

_Mine_.

Yes, that'd been her first thought when that last swallow sealed Doc away, their breaths husky and hearts racing while she swept her hands over the great bulges of him rippling across her blushing abdomen. _All mine_. 

Shame coursed through system her like venom while she contemplated this. So she corrected. "I haven't fed _you_."

He read her initial silence easily, sighing. "Sunlight, I - that was cruel of me." Aiza could imagine him pinching the bridge of this nose - it was something he was so quick to do.

Doc continued. "This isn't that bad. And I know you're trying. I'm just frustrated and hungry and a _little_ scared out of my mind about where we are." His voice started cracking, but he was stuck in a ramble now. "I can't help but hate myself for getting you involved with this God and my problems, and here I am behaving so bitterly." 

She squeezed into as best a hug as she could manage while Doc took in jittering, aching breaths and he curled in tighter around himself. It gave her enough space to knead soothing circles along the spots where she assumed his shoulder blades, his spine, the small of his back were, quietly _shhhh_ -ing.

Eventually, his breathing evened out, and Aiza felt like she should say something. "You're not bitter. You're actually _very_ sweet. I should know."

He laughed. Sniffled. Laughed again. "I don't deserve you."

"I feel the same, sometimes. Does that mean they cancel out?" Aiza cocked her head, watching someone pull aside the tent flaps a far way's off. "People here. Love you," was the last thing she said before the mess started filling.

The cuisine wasn't familiar to her, so she hesitated until at the other end of the hall she watched a woman briefly enter, take a serving, and leave, as through she were bringing the dish to someone else - but not before stealing a bite. The hot bundles were some sort of fried rice-flour dumpling filled with ground vegetables and chicken. The bubbling liquid from the central kettle was a bright yellow, herbal-smelling sauce that could be consumed on its own as a stew, or simply used as a dipping sauce for the dumplings. Aiza took a seat and was quickly surrounded by a gaggle of fussy old women who piled her plate high and wide before she'd even caught their names.

When she tried a dumpling, she found it so decadent she couldn't keep from chewing it up greedily, which earned her a swift, displeased squeak when the contents must have splat inelegantly on her occupant's head. From then on, she horked them down whole. 

It was only in the middle of the meal that she recognized the problem: where she was rather punctual about the times she ate and the consistency of her meals by virtue of her guild's punctuality (that morning notwithstanding), Doc's habits were the polar opposite. His schedule made little to no sense, so he'd made a habit of eating himself into the sixth month of a food pregnancy when he _did_ get the chance to eat. So she ate and ate until she thought that was enough, only to find him tickling her ribs and imploring for more.

She would have found it funny if those habits weren't bloating _her_ , too.

It didn't help that the entire camp's Nonnas and Aunties decided to form a cordon around her, entirely dedicated to doting on the snow-haired mother-to-be that had manifested from the snowstorm. 

"Actually, I'm quite satisfied, honest," she said, pushing a plate away, ignoring her lover's fingers drumming against her stomach lining.

"Nonsense," said portly woman with a stained coif. "You're eating for how many now?"

Aiza picked a number that seemed reasonable. "Five?" Yeah, sure, five babies would be the story.

The portly woman tutted. "You're skin and bone." She called out over her shoulder, "Margaret, tell her about Miss Bertha and her young'ns!"

The rest spoke in similar terms. "Hanging low like that? Bet they're all boys," said a redheaded smoker.

A granny: "Well does the shape really matter when she's got a whole litter packed away in there?" 

So they talked and ate and until Doc was probably beach-ball shaped and she was nearly green around the gills. And then some. There was sharp twinge, then another, and she held her open palms over the cramps and massaged them until they stopped gurgling with pain. When they were done stuffing her, Aiza could hardly move, so she could do nothing when half a dozen hands started poking and prodding now-gargantuan belly and she held her breath and waited for the worst. 

They were the quietest they'd been the whole night. Then the granny broke into a toothless grin.

"Aww, one of 'em has hiccups."

Aiza blinked. _Sure._

They spent the rest of the evening cooing over the "babies" and when they cleared out, she sat wondering how the hell they got away unscathed.

Well. Then again, Aiza was obviously not quite human. They probably brushed it off as no odder than her hair, the grey-purple undertone to her skin, as was common amongst her ordening of giants. Her height. Probably? Probably, she decided. 

Lawson whistled low and jauntily when he found her. "Wow. They really did a number on you, huh?" he chuckled.

She give a breathy, wheezy nod in response.

"C'mon. Meorith has a spot reserved for you." He offered a hand and a wry grin. "Should I roll you?"

She walked alongside him some distance until they reached a tent of a substantial size.

Aiza didn't question it. Doc's movements, when she felt them, were as sluggish as she felt. He'd likely eaten himself into a food coma. That was fine by her. They'd figure out their plan in the morning, when the bracers' spell replenished. So she gave Lawson her thanks and bid him farewell.

The tent was lit and warmed by a wood stove with a long ventilation shaft that poured smoke out of the top in long, dark billowing clouds. There was an old desk, with drawers too heavy to pull open with a perfunctory tug. Drawers, a coatrack, a large, spinning chair situated in the corner, where the stove's light didn't reach. A cot - a big one, thankfully.

She undid her boots first, then her robes, and with a final shrug, peeled everything else away, barring her smallclothes. No brassiere - she didn't need it. When she wasn't sporting a person-filled gut that surged out a few feet ahead of her, Aiza had a fairly athletic build, a layer of puppy fat smoothing the harsh edges adventuring should have drawn on her.

At last, she crawled into the cot, careful to end up on her side - she was afraid what being pinned to her back would do to her spinal column. Her belly towered above her anyway, as intimidating as Silverhead Mountain itself. Grumbling, gurgling with its own weight. Fleshy, but hard to touch the muscle was so overwrought. Skin straining, hot and sensitive to the lightest brush against the sheets.

Fuck. Unconsciously, she pressed her thighs together, and a hand moved to a surprisingly terse bud of a nipple, and rolled. She purred… before aborting.

As much as the morbid curiosity tugged at her, she was exhausted. There'd be time for fun later. Maybe.

Sleep came quickly.

Aiza awoke to the sight of a man leering at her, his eyes dark slits in their sockets. Her breath caught in her throat and she stifled a scream, retreating to the corner in a frenzy of motion.

The man smiled when she pulled the sheets up and around her, as if that'd hide her, keep the monster under her bed from dragging her away. He took a step and seated himself on the cot's edge, looking rather proper in his longcoat and long, black hair pulled back with a silk ribbon. No shoes.

"Hello, Aiza. My name is Meorith," he said. When one of his hands settled on the top of her belly, Meorith's expression didn't change, but something in his demeanor twisted into something inscrutably horrible. The smile became a grin.

"Hi, Doc," said Meorith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooh shit okay I didn't think I would get this far. thanks again for the views and kudos! 
> 
> I'm debating between Good End and Bad End. if you have a preference for one or the other let me know, but otherwise I'm just gonna throw darts at a board and maybe update when I get the free time.


End file.
